The Stranger in the Mirror
by Druella Whitacre
Summary: Ashlynn Parker hasn't been home in six years.  She has a new job, new friends, a new life.  But who is she?  Not even she knows anymore.
1. Homecoming

Ashlynn Parker sat rigidly in a brown pleather chair as the chief went over her file. The sound of rustling paper and voices muffled through the closed door were the only sounds in the small room along with the nervous tapping of a pen in the woman's hand.

"What I don't get, Agent Parker," began Chief Vick, setting her pen on the table next to the file, "is why a CBI Agent of your standing has placed a request to transfer to city law enforcement."

With a mild shrug of one shoulder, Ashlynn resettled in the chair and placed her hands lightly in her lap. "To put it plainly, I've seen a lot the past couple years and it's gotten to be too much recently. I need a break from my caseload. The rest of my team can handle the fort while I'm gone."

"But why Santa Barbara? Wouldn't it be more practical to transfer somewhere closer to Sacramento?"

With a slight glazed look in her blue eyes, she responded, "More practical, but I grew up here, and I thought it would be better to be somewhere familiar." She leaned forward slightly as if to whisper into the chief's ear. "Ma'am, I ask that if you do give me the position, I would prefer that my past work history remain unknown to the others."

"Miss Parker," Vick replied, stressing the formality, "I'd be a fool to deny your request to transfer here. And because you'll be working as a civilian consultant rather than an armed officer, I'd prefer your standing to not be a distraction. I'll have the proper forms drawn up and brought here for us to sign." Vick stood and motioned for Ashlynn to follow her out the double doors of the office. "In the meantime, I'd like you to meet our Consultant Liaison, Henry Spencer. He determines if a consultant is needed for a case."

Henry Spencer was an older man of average height with a nearly bald head and a slightly protruding gut. He had a wrinkled brow and wore a tailored navy suit with a white buttoned shirt. It was simple with clean lines and gave an authoritative feeling about him. He stood with a stiff spine and a tight smile as he shook Ashlynn's hand in greeting.

"Henry, this is Ashlynn Parker. She'll be working as a consultant on the rare case here and there. She has asked that her Agent status remains unknown to the station. I trust you'll respect that." Chief Vick walked away at that moment to fetch the paperwork for the transfer, leaving the two standing awkwardly in the center of the room.

"Please, sit down," Henry said politely, gesturing towards the extra chair beside his desk. They sat quietly as Henry pulled up her information on his computer. "I see you previously worked the Homicide Unit at the CBI in Sacramento. Any particular reason you chose to work here instead?"

Ashlynn shifted in her chair for a moment, stalling before answering. "Like I told the chief, I need a break from the chaos."

"That doesn't answer my question. Why here?" Ashlynn turned her focus to the computer screen, reading down the list of people she had helped put behind bars. The list was surprisingly extensive for her twenty-four years. That was most of why she chose to go on hiatus. Most twenty-four year old women have never seen dead bodies of men, women, and children or witnessed someone murder another in cold blood. It was one thing to investigate a murder and another to watch one as it happened. That was the last straw. "Do you have family here?"

Ashlynn flinched at the question. She nodded stiffly without looking away from the computer screen. "I haven't been home in years. To be honest, I'm already regretting this decision."

"Go see your parents." Henry spoke with such pointed finality, that it startled Ashlynn into looking at him. "Whatever it is you're hiding from won't change the fact that you're they're daughter. Sometimes our kids make us absolutely furious, but nothing can stop us from loving them." Henry closed the computer file and stood from his chair, placing a hand lightly on her shoulder. "Trust me, I know the feeling."

He left her sitting in the desk chair as he walked away to do some unknown job, leaving her to think over his words. She argued silently with herself for a moment before making up her mind and leaving the precinct. She had gotten up so fast that Lassiter's chair, which she had been sitting in, kept turning long after she had evacuated it.

* * *

><p>Detective Carlton Lassiter had woken up the previous day with a temperature of 103 and had been given explicit instructions directly from the chief to stay in bed and not, repeat not, come to work that day or the next. So, instead of being at the police station, Lassiter was camped out on his couch with cough medicine, a box of tissues, a thermometer, and the TV remote. He had nearly drowned himself in various liquids and had choked on a DayQuil tablet or two and was feeling well enough to come to work. However, having been given a direct order, he was morally obligated to stay home. And, by staying home, he was there when a knock sounded through his house at two in the afternoon.<p>

Tossing away the throw blanket, Lassiter stood from the couch and strode to the door, a .22 caliber pistol in the right pocket of his flannel pajama pants. He grasped the knob and turned, pulling open the door harshly in order to intimidate whoever was standing on the other side. As the door flew open, his grip quickly grew slack and lost hold of it, letting it slam into the wall. His jaw dropped open.

Ashlynn stood awkwardly on the detective's porch with her hands shoved deep into her pockets and her shoulders hunched forward so far, you'd think she had a hump. "Hey, Dad."


	2. De Ja Vu

Shawn Spencer's date was a no-show. He waited at the restaurant for half an hour before giving up and walking down the street to Tom Blair's Pub. He had a smile on his face and a dance to his step regardless of being stood up by- what was her name again?- Angie, Amy, Martina? He shrugged it off quickly and walked swiftly to the bar, a cold bottle of beer the only thing on his mind. Well, it was the only thing, until Carlton Lassiter's slumped over form caught his eye. Lassiter had a half empty glass in his hand and a nearly empty bottle on the table in front of him. A pessimistic view of "glass half empty" seemed far too fitting in this instance. His left arm dangled limply at his side while his right elbow cradled his head, the hand clutching the glass in a death grip.

"Hiya, Lassiepants," Shawn greeted loudly, dropping his frame into the opposite chair. The table shook with the force and knocked over the bottle, its contents spilling across the surface and onto the floor. Lassiter's head popped up in surprise, his hand briefly reaching for his holster before seeing who it was that joined him. Surprisingly enough, instead of continuing to draw his gun like he would when sober, Lassiter's face relaxed into an admittedly creepy smile.

"Spencer," he greeted jovially. "Fancy meeting you here."

"You know, Lassie, I'm getting an odd sense of s'il vous plait."

"De ja vu."

"I've heard it both ways." Shawn shrugged, thankful that Lassiter wasn't so far out of it that he would start spilling his guts like last time. No matter how much Shawn cared about Lassie, and yes he did care about him, Shawn didn't want to hear any more about marital problems between him and Victoria. It was awkward enough the last time.

"Do you know what my problem is, Spencer?"

"A multitude of things, I'd say." Apparently, he spoke too soon.

"My problem is that I can't just shut up and let things go. I just push, push, push until they're gone. I did it to my mother, I did it to Victoria, and I did it to my daughter." At that, Shawn perked up suddenly and leaned forward, silently urging Lassiter to continue. There was no need to play up the psychic act since Lassiter would just forget their conversation by morning. "And you know what, Shawn, I did it again." Lassiter picked up his glass and downed its contents, his hand reaching across the table for the bottle that was now resting on its side on the floor with a large crack down the side. It was a wonder the thing didn't shatter when it fell. "I told her all the time, 'you're going to the police academy. You're gunna do well and be a fine upstanding individual.' I just wanted what any father would want for their child. I wanted her to follow my footsteps."

Shawn had never met this girl and already felt like they'd known each other their entire lives. He knew the feeling when a parent pushes their kid too far and too hard.

"I just wanted so bad for her to not be like her mother. I didn't want my daughter to come home one night and tell me she was pregnant at sixteen."

"If only 16 and Pregnant was on back then. It truly is the ultimate birth control for teenage girls."

"Shut up, Spencer," Lassie bit back gruffly. "She was a good kid, kept her grades up, better than mine were at her age. She stayed out of trouble and joined the academy after she graduated high school. After the six week course, she left the ceremony in her own car to meet us at the restaurant, but she never showed."

"Really? A good kid like that left her parents sitting in a restaurant awkwardly waiting for her? How rude."

"No, it was me and Mother. Ashlynn's mother died when she was born."

"Lassie," Shawn said exasperated, "I'm trying my hardest to lighten the mood, and you're killing it. You're taking it by the collar and shooting it in the foot repeatedly." It was then that the two young women checking him out at the table next to them got up quickly and relocated to the other side of the building. "Alright, Lassie, just tell me about what happened today. Tell me what happened to send you here to get drunk."

Lassiter sat silent for a moment, staring despondently into his empty glass. "She came back today. I saw her for the first time in years and all I did was ask her, 'what station are you working for?' She didn't stay long after that." He hung his head sullenly as his brow knitted together and his top lip curled. For a moment, Shawn was afraid Lassiter was going to cry. With a great shudder, he straightened his shoulders and lifted his head. "I just hope I didn't ruin it completely."

Carlton Lassiter was a wreck, and it didn't take long before he called it quits, making his way to his feet. As he found out quickly, his legs had become jell-o at an unknown point in his time sitting there. With an ogre like groan, he lurched forward, his balance deserting him completely. Hitting the floor, he promptly passed out.

"Yup," sighed Shawn. "Just like last time."

* * *

><p>So, I've gotten one review from someone for this story, and it was someone I know personally. I know this crossover pairing isn't very popular, so I decided to give it some love by posting this. Come on people! Let's show some love!<p> 


End file.
